


death & lemons

by doctordisco



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3347339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctordisco/pseuds/doctordisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is such innocence really capable?</p>
            </blockquote>





	death & lemons

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything on here in a while. This isn't as explicit as some of my other works have been. Was kind of inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr. I wish I could link it on here -- honestly I don't know how but if you message me I'll be sure to send you the link. Also if I should just continue on with this, lemme know. I may start doing some short stories or something.

He had always known it was her.

Perhaps this was his mind unable to let go of the idea that she was  _truly_  no longer the child she once was. Perhaps he liked that side of her. The side of  _innocence_ , the side of  _trust_  and  _love_. Everything he knew he would enjoy slowly corrupting in well kept hands. But in all truth, he knew it was her. The set up had been quite delicate, he admitted, quite thought out even as the man recalled the events that led to him finding the young lord dead among the fine table. Still laid out in finery and food, though the only notable display was the lemon delicacies that remained upon its silver platter. 

The Lord Protector did not shout for the guards, he stared and wandered around the large table, eyes glued to the blue skinned boy.  _Suffocated_. It would seem, with cream and lemon custard stuck between the corners of his plump lips. Sweetrobin was not a very well boy but he had the same qualities of any man of gluttony. Craving of sweets and what others had. Taking what he liked for what he wanted. Coming along the boy's backside he stopped, the scent of lemon heavy in the air and yet nothing else. Simply a boy that had choked upon his desserts without supervision he choked.

Eyes rose then, the soft sound of slippers at the door had him waiting and watching. Black silks peaked through the brim and azure colored eyes peered back. He  _knew_  then. Would she confess? Would she lie? Truly? All wonders dashed away as her form disappeared into the darkness of the corridor and he was alone again. That was when he called for them.

"Why Sweetling? Why would you do such a thing?" 

Words greeted by silence and nothing. The rustling of skirts came to him as she walked along the length of his solar -- willingly coming to his summons. Stopping just before him as those same damned eyes gazed upwards. So much could come from such a look. A  _foolish_  man would fall or such an innocent face, a quiet face, one that if you truly believed her story -- she had nothing to do with. Except Petyr Baelish. He knew better then to know when and where the innocence stopped and the player began. With a tentative hand, she rose her fingers to the finery of his doublet. For a long moment her fingers traced along the well woven silks that lined his embroidery. The gold and brown he wore still dull enough to mourn the loss of his dearest Lady Wife and yet -- its simplicity held a certain glory. She said nothing because there was nothing to be said.


End file.
